


Lessons in Deception

by ssa_archivist



Series: Movement [4]
Category: Smallville
Genre: Angst, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-03-21
Updated: 2002-03-21
Packaged: 2017-11-01 06:25:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/353086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ssa_archivist/pseuds/ssa_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lex and Clark deal with the consequences of their relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lessons in Deception

## Lessons in Deception

by Jade

[]()

* * *

Disclaimer: They're not mine. 

Series: This is a sequel to Birthday Wishes. The order of the stories is as follows: Movement, Family Traditions, Birthday Wishes, Lessons in Deception. They really should be read in order otherwise they might not make too much sense. 

Acknowledgement: Thank you to Peggy for her beta. Without her help this story would make a whole heck of a lot less sense. Thanks to Teri for encouraging me to write even when I felt like I couldn't do it. And lastly, thanks to everyone who emailed me and said they needed to read this. It might not have gotten finished without you. 

* * *

I've been watching Clark the entire way back from Metropolis. He's curled up in the seat next to me, and I almost think he may be in some kind of shock. He's pale and nervous and tense. Currently his eyes are closed, as if he's trying to block out reality. Earlier, when they were open, they were stormy, troubled and so full of hurt. I'm almost glad he closed them so that they can't tear at my heart anymore. I want to reach out and touch him, tell him everything will be all right, that it will all work out in the end, but I can't. I can't because I don't know if the words will be true, and I don't want to lie to him. I still don't know what's really going on here. There had been a piece of paper in the envelope with the picture, but all that was on it was a phone number and instructions to call before eight this morning. I want to get on the phone and make that call, but we need to handle Clark's parents first. Then, I can start dealing with whatever this asshole might want from me. 

Clark's parents, shit, that's going to be a scene. They were furious. I had rushed back into the living room of the hotel suite to see Clark seated on the couch, bent over so that his head was almost touching his knees. He was listening to someone on the phone and cringing. I knew right away that he wasn't hearing anything good. I knew, I just knew, that his parents had received a copy of the exact same picture that I had just found inside that goddamned envelope. 

"I'm sorry," Clark said, his voice small and sad. I moved over to the couch and climbed on to sit next to him. Instinctively my arms wrapped around him and held on tight. 

"No. Dad, it's not like that. It really isn't. No. No. No, he didn't. Dad, please. I'm sorry." I could feel Clark shaking under my hands, and, by the time I heard him say he was sorry the second time, I could tell he was crying. I decided that was it. I didn't care what his father thought he was doing, he wasn't going to make Clark cry over this. I reached down and removed the phone from Clark's hand. He turned to look at me when I did so. I just nodded encouragingly and he gave it up without protest. Before talking to his father, I maneuvered Clark so he was sitting up and leaning back against me. I wanted to be able to hold him while I spoke to his father. 

"Mr. Kent," I said smoothly into the phone. I sounded much more collected than I felt. 

"Lex," he spat like my name left a bad taste in his mouth. Maybe it did at that. "What the hell do you think you're doing with my son?" 

I took a deep breath. "I don't think we should talk about this on the phone. We're going to leave now. I'll bring Clark home and then we can all talk together," I told him calmly. My right hand was running through Clark's hair. His head was resting on my chest, and he was holding onto my right arm like I was the only thing keeping him grounded in the world. 

"You'll be lucky if I don't have the sheriff waiting here for you when you get back," Clark's father snapped at me. I didn't think it was terribly smart of him to show his hand like that, but I also thought he was mostly bluster about it as well. There was no way he'd really want everyone in town knowing about my relationship with his son, and that is what would inevitably happen if he called the police. 

"Mr. Kent," I said, again smoother than I felt. "Please, let's hold off on that. We'll be back in three hours. We can discuss all of this then." This was my business voice, the mask I used when I expected to be listened to and get my way. It worked. 

"Three hours," he growled into the phone. "Any longer and I swear I'll send the police out after you." 

I nodded slowly. "We'll see you then," I told him. I hung up before he could ask to speak to Clark again. There was no way I was going to let him speak to Clark when he was so upset already. I tossed the phone onto the table and then wrapped my left arm around Clark again. 

"I'm so sorry," I told him. 

"Not your fault," he mumbled into my shirt. "What's happening?" 

"I don't know yet," I told him. I wished I did know. I wished I could get on the phone right then and start figuring this out, but I couldn't. We needed to get Clark home to Smallville and get this situation with his parents taken care of. I only hoped that by the time they were done yelling at me, I would still be allowed to see Clark. 

Clark just nodded and held onto me. He needed the comfort and truthfully I did too. I didn't want to go back to the reality that was waiting for us at Clark's house. I would have stayed in that room with Clark for the rest of my life if I thought I could. 

We stayed curled up on the couch together for about ten minutes before I finally made us get up and leave. I didn't want to give Clark's father any more reasons to be angry, and if we didn't start heading back, we wouldn't make it in his three-hour time limit. 

We headed downstairs, checked out, and got in the car. I was driving this time; I wouldn't have let it be any other way. Clark was too overwhelmed to drive. I was shaking, but I've dealt with impossible situations in the past, so I knew how to get through it without getting us both killed in the process. 

Clark retreated inside himself almost immediately. It worried me, but I decided to leave it. He needed time to sort out and try to understand what was going on. He wasn't used to feeling like he'd disappointed his parents. He wasn't used to lying to them and being found out. He needed to figure out how he wanted to deal with that. I watched him and touched him periodically during the drive to make sure that he was okay. When I stopped for gas halfway back to Smallville, I bought him a ham sandwich and made sure he ate it. I ate one too, nasty highway food, but it killed the hunger that had been building since this morning when we both missed breakfast. 

Now we're all the way back to his house and I don't know quite what to do. I stop the car as I reach the turn off to his parent's farm. Just down that road lies something I had hoped to avoid for a while yet. I had wanted to protect him from this forever, even though I knew that I couldn't. Truthfully, I had wanted to protect myself as well. Somewhere along the line having Clark's parent's approval has become important to me. I want to make them happy. I want Clark to feel proud to be with me. 

"How are you doing?" I ask him softly. I reach over and touch his cheek with my fingers. He leans into my hand. Thank god he didn't pull away. I was so scared that he might. 

"I'm scared," he admits after a few moments of silence. "What if they hate me?" 

"They're your parents, Clark. They aren't going to hate you, no matter what. They may be angry or not understand or not like what you're doing, but they love you. That's not going to change." I'm so sure of that. I've seen the way the Kents treat their son, the fierce love and pride they have for him, and I don't think anything, not even me, could ever corrupt that. 

Clark just looks at me pleadingly. He wants me to be right. He can't bear to think that they would ever stop loving him. I can't bear to think that either. If the Kents to stopped loving their son, it would mean that everything I'm come to believe because of them is wrong. It would mean that friendship and love and family mean nothing. 

"Do you still?" Clark asks me eventually. 

I know what he's asking but I don't know if I can give him what he needs. The words came out once, but my guard was down, and I was vulnerable. "Clark," I sigh softly. 

"Lex," he returns with a pleading note in his voice. He needs to hear it. He needs to make it real for himself before we go in there, and he possibly destroys his relationship with his parents. He needs to know why he's doing it. That the risk is worth the benefit he will be getting. He needs to know that he will be getting love in return for breaking his parents' hearts. And I need to give it to him. I need to give it to him, or who am I to call him my friend, let alone my lover? 

I take a deep breath, lean over in the car, and pull him into my arms. It's awkward in the small space. We're both big guys, especially Clark, but we manage. "I love you, Clark," I whisper into his ear. It's quiet but I know he hears it. It's like a secret just between the two of us. Special. 

He holds me tight and I can feel his smile against the side of my face. "I love you too, Lex," he tells me. Clark pulls back slightly, and then leans back in to kiss me. It's soft and sweet and gentle. It's not a kiss of passion; it's a kiss of promise, the promise of a future together. The promise that no matter what happens, we're going to come out of it stronger. I've never experienced anything like it before. 

"Are you ready?" I ask him once the kiss ends. 

"No," he says softly and shakes his head. "But I need to be anyways. What are we going to tell them?" 

"The truth," I tell him simply. Just like Clark deserved the truth, they do too. Who would have thought that the only three people in the entire world that I couldn't lie to would be some farm kid and his parents? 

"That you resisted me, but I insisted?" Clark asks softly. He sounds a little hesitant about that. Gee, I can't imagine why. I know his parents don't want to hear that, don't want to know how sexy and seductive their fifteen-year-old son had been. 

"No," I say and shake my head. Honestly, I don't know where some of his ideas come from. "That we're..." I trail off and gesture between us. I want him to help me out here; I don't think I can say it again just yet. 

"In love?" Clark supplies. 

"Yes." 

Clark smiles broadly. He looks like his face is about to split apart. I lean in, kiss him one more time, and then settle back down in my seat. 

"Okay," I say with a sigh. "We can do this." I start the car back up and then take us off the main road and down the lane towards the Kents' farm. Clark doesn't say anything in response. He just nods and watches the road in front of us. He's nervous. So am I. 

My car has a distinctive noise and Clark's parents have likely been watching for us, so I'm not surprised when they both come out to stand on the front porch as we approach the house. Clark's father looks just as pissed off as I had expected, but his mother just looks tired and worried. Neither of those looks is promising, but I really hadn't expected anything else. I pull up close to the porch and turn off the car. We climb out at the same time. I move around to stand in front of the vehicle. Clark looks like he's going to join his parents on the porch, but stops when his father steps down into the driveway. 

He's staring directly at me, and he strides purposefully towards me. Fuck, he looks dangerous. "Clark, go inside with your mother," Mr. Kent growls to his son. His eyes never leave my face. He's physically intimidating, but I refuse to allow him to see that I'm scared. Luthors don't get scared, and I wouldn't want to ruin that image. I return his gaze as he approaches me. 

"No," Clark says. His voice is steady and sure, and his defiance of his father is stronger than I had expected. 

"Clark," his father says sharply but still doesn't look in his son's direction, "now." 

"No," Clark says again. He starts walking towards where I'm standing in front of the car. He and his father reach my location at almost the exact same time. Clark reaches out to place his hand on my arm. It's incredibly possessive. He stares at his father like he's challenging the older man to make a move to hurt me. Mr. Kent grimaces when he sees Clark grab me, and I feel sorry for him. He thinks he's losing his son, but he's not. Clark loves him more than I can even begin to understand. 

"I trusted you with my son," Clark's father snarls at me. He is so close to me that I can feel his breath on my face. Clark's hand tightens on my arm and pulls me back slightly. "And then I get this." He pulls the picture out of his pocket and holds it out for me to take. 

I reach out and take it from him. Like I expected, it's the same picture I received at the hotel. Clark reaches out to touch the edge of it. He hasn't asked to look at it before now. 

"I want to know what the hell is going on," Clark's father demands. 

"Dad," Clark protests before I can even begin to think what I'm going to say. His father and I both turn to look at him. "It isn't what you think." 

"Really?" his father asks. His voice is thick with sarcasm. I don't think I've ever heard him speak that way before. "You're telling me that's all it was," he snaps, and points sharply at the picture I'm still holding in my hand, "just that one kiss. Did he push you away, Clark? Did he tell you no?" 

"Dad," Clark protests again, and I know that he's going to lie to his father. I can't let him do it. I can't let him lie to his parents, and I also can't let him deny what we have. It isn't wrong. It's so right. So much better than anything I've ever had before. I won't deny it and I won't let him deny it either. 

"No," I say quickly and cut Clark off before he can make his mistake. Both Clark and his father turn to look at me. Clark squeezes my arm. He must intend it as a warning, but I'm not taking it. "No," I repeat, "I didn't stop him, and yes, we are involved." 

"But it's still not what you think, Dad," Clark insists. 

"How?" his father demands. "How is it not like I think?" 

"Because I love him." Clark tells his father. 

"Fuck," Mr. Kent says softly under his breath, and closes his eyes in what looks like pain. 

Clark's mother gasps and for the first time I notice that she's come to stand next to Clark. "Clark," she says softly. Her voice is full of concern. She places her hand on his arm. 

"And because he loves me," Clark continues. He's still staring down at his father challengingly. 

Clark's father snorts and laughs harshly. "Did he tell you that?" he demands. He waits for Clark's small nod before continuing. "And what do you think that means coming from a Luthor?" 

"I... He loves me, Dad," Clark insists. "I know it." 

His father just snorts again and looks disgusted. 

"I am not my father," I protest. I'm so tired of having to tell people that. Will there ever be a day when people judge me on my own merits? And if so, can I just skip through my life to that day so that I don't have to deal with this crap any longer? 

"You know, Lex, you really had me believing that. That's why I allowed you to take Clark into the city. But you are exactly like him and I won't let you fuck around with my son." 

"I am not fucking around with Clark," I yell. It's louder than I expected but it's been a trying and frustrating day. I take a deep breath and struggle to gain control of my emotions again. "I'm not," I insist. 

Clark's father takes a step forward, and for a moment I think that he might punch me. Clark must be worried too because he steps forward and places his body between his father and me. Mr. Kent sighs heavily, throws his hands up in frustration, then turns his back to us, and steps away. He walks towards the house, stops for a moment, and then turns around to come back to where the rest of us are standing. He sounds like he's muttering to himself softly. 

"Dad, you have to understand..." Clark starts to say but his father interrupts him before he can finish. 

"I don't have to understand anything, Clark," his father cuts him off sharply. "Right now I don't want to understand anything that involves him," he glances at me like I'm the devil incarnate. "All I want to know is what's going on with that picture," he says and gestures at the picture I'm still holding. 

"I assume you got a note with it too?" I ask him. 

"Yes," Clark's mother says, and passes a folded piece of paper to Clark, who hands it over to me. I unfold it and read what's written there. All it says is 'Tell Lex how serious I am'. 

Fuck. This bastard is seriously pissing me off. He's going to be a pain in the ass. There's no way I want to end up paying this asshole off to make this disappear, but I think I just may have to. I don't want the picture to get out anymore than the Kents do. I don't care about myself, people pretty much know what I am, but I don't want Clark to go through three and a half more years of hell at high school over it. And, of course, there's my father to consider in all of it. He sent me out here to clean my image, to make people forget all about my unconventional past, not so that I could stir up even more controversy. I'm definitely not here so that I can get involved with farm boys of questionable age. He'll want this buried, sure as anything. 

"It came this morning?" I ask them. 

Mr. Kent nods. "They must have parked out on the main road and walked in, because I didn't hear the vehicle. I wasn't here when I went out this morning to work, but when I came back in just before ten it was propped against the back door." 

"And you didn't notice anyone around the house?" I ask Clark's mother. 

She shakes her head. "I was working at the other end of the house. Cleaning. I was vacuuming at one point. That might have been when it came." 

"Okay," I sigh. My hand travels inadvertently up my body, and I run it over my baldhead. I catch Clark watching the movement, and know that he knows what it means. I smile at him in what I hope is a reassuring way. "Can we go inside?" I ask both of Clark's parents and hope that one of them is inclined to let me into their house again. I'm mainly routing for his mother on this one. 

"Why?" Clark's father demands. He sounds suspicious, and I have to wonder what he thinks I'm going to do in there. 

"Because it's cold out here," I say, even though I know he's like Clark and doesn't feel it. Clark's mother isn't so acclimatized, so she's probably feeling it as well, and though I know my comfort means nothing to him, I'm sure his wife's does concern him. "And because I'd prefer to make this call in the house." Not that it probably matters, mind you, the farm really is in the middle of nowhere, and it's not like anyone's going to be hiding in the bushes waiting for the latest details on our situation. Mainly I'm just cold, and I would really prefer not to be. I definitely was not built for this type of climate. 

Clark's father is still glaring at me but Mrs. Kent saves me. "Of course," she says reasonably. "There's really no reason to stay out here." She turns and heads back to the house. As she passes her husband she touches his arm, and he follows her inside after one last glare at me. The ease at which she gets him to do what she wants would be comical if our situation wasn't so serious. 

It's interesting. Clark's mother seems less disturbed by our relationship than Clark's father. I had guessed that she suspected something was up between us. I didn't know if she had any idea exactly what it might be, though. Now I think she knew all along, maybe even from that night when I came over to have dinner with them. If she has, that means she's probably been covering since then and we likely have an ally. I wonder how much of an influence she'll be able to exert on him in our favor. 

"We'll just be a minute," I tell them as they walk away. "We're just going to grab Clark's stuff from the trunk." Mrs. Kent nods at me as they step into the porch and then into the house. Clark's father can't very well argue with bringing Clark's stuff inside, and it's not like we're going to take off. What I really want, though, is a moment to speak to Clark alone. They probably know it, too. 

"Clark," I say and turn to face him as soon as his parents step inside the house. I wrap my arm his waist and pull him into a light embrace. "Are you okay?" 

"I think so," Clark says hesitantly; he's shaking just a little bit. "He's really mad." 

"He is," I agree with a nod, "but he's not angry with you, not really. It's me, and really he has a right to be. I went behind his back," I tell Clark. 

"We both did," he insists. 

I know he wants me to let him take half the responsibility here. That is something I really like about him. He's always ready to accept responsibility for his actions, and doesn't ever try to pass it off on other people like so many others I know. At the end of this, though, Clark's really just a kid. I'm the adult; I should have taken responsibility for this relationship a long time ago. I don't know why I thought I would be able to hide it indefinitely. 

"Clark," I protest with a shake of my head. 

"Fuck you, Lex," Clark snaps and pulls away from me. I don't know what shocks me the most, the fact that Clark just swore at me or the fact that he just pulled away from me while I was trying to comfort him. 

"Clark?" I ask. I can hear the uncertainty in my voice and I'm sure he can pick up on it too. 

"You can't treat me like that," Clark protests loudly. "You can't treat me like an adult only when it suits you, and then treat me like a kid the rest of the time. That's not fair. And to tell you the truth, it's a little creepy." 

I don't respond right away. Clark's obviously angry, and I get the feeling he's been thinking about this for a while. What's coming out of his mouth isn't just something he's thought of right now, it's something that's been stewing inside him, and just waiting for the right time to come out. Do I really treat him like that? I think back over the last few weeks, thinking of the times I've protected him and the times I haven't. I honestly thought I just did it because I cared for him, but maybe he's right, maybe I'm protecting him from things I wouldn't if he were older. But that's it, if he were older. He's not. He's still only sixteen, and there are still things I need to protect him from, but maybe his father's anger isn't one of them. 

"Okay," I tell him. "I'm sorry. I promise I'll let you take part of the blame here." I smile slightly at the absurdity of what I'm saying, but not enough so that he might think I'm making fun of him. 

Clark watches me for a moment. I assume he's gauging the seriousness of my words. Eventually he nods and then steps back towards me. He wraps his arms around my middle and snuggles up against my chest. "Thank you," he says softly. 

"You're welcome, I guess," I tell him and smile at him again. He really amazes me sometimes. Who else do I know who would voluntarily take part of the blame for my actions? 

Clark looks up at me with a smile in his eyes, and I know I'm in for it. "Do I get to hear about the clubs now?" he asks me. His voice is serious, but his eyes are dancing. 

"No," I tell him seriously. I know I'm going to regret saying anything at all about that subject. I withdraw slightly and hold him at arm's length. "Still too young." 

"Lex," Clark draws out my name into a plea. 

"Nope," I tell him. I release him and walk around him towards the rear of the car. "I'm in enough trouble already without adding that." I reach the trunk and unlock it. 

"You're not making me want to know any less, you know that, right?" Clark complains as he comes to meet me at the rear of the car. I open the trunk and he reaches in to extract his bag. 

"I'm not?" I ask him. I know I shouldn't be teasing him about this but I can't seem to help myself. Once Clark has his bag, I close the trunk and we both head towards back towards the house. 

"No, you're not," Clark tells me and reaches out to poke me in the side. 

How did we go from being yelled at by his father only minutes ago to this laughing, teasing happiness? Being alone with him always seems to be able to do this to me, to make it as if the entire world has disappeared from around us. It's just him, me, and this thing between us. Whatever it is. It's almost too good to believe. 

"We should go in the back," Clark tells me as I start to head towards the front door where his parents entered the house. I shrug and then follow Clark. I'm really not sure what the difference is, but if Clark wants to go in via the kitchen entrance, I'm not going to argue. 

When we enter the house, Clark's parents are waiting for us at the table. They're both sitting and speaking quietly. When Clark opens the door they turn to look at us. They look much the same as they did outside, upset and worried, although both seem to be somewhat calmer now. Clark's father scowls when he sees the smile on my face, and I quickly cover it again with my business mask. Clark drops his bag on the floor by the door, and then we both head over to sit down at the table with his parents. 

"I still want to know what's going on here," Clark's father tells me. 

I sigh and reach into my pocket to pull out the photo and note I received earlier. "I really don't know yet," I tell him honestly. "I got the picture last night, but didn't look at it until this morning." 

I see Mr. Kent's mouth open to ask me why I hadn't looked at it last night. I can only hope that he figures it out himself because I really don't want to have to tell him. He must manage to get some idea because he seems to stop himself just before words start coming out of his mouth. He flushes slightly, but it looks more like anger than embarrassment. He just nods for me to continue and I do. 

"It's the same picture," I say as I set the glossy paper down on the table. "Probably the only good shot the guy got," I tell them casually. I'll let them make of that what they will. 

"So what is this? Blackmail?" Clark's father demands. 

"Oh, most definitely," I agree with a nod. "This guy's looking for a pay out, probably several of them actually. Clark's here for at least the next three and a half years and small towns aren't exactly known for their tolerance about these types of things." 

Clark's father snorts at me and I'm a little taken aback by his response. "Don't make this sound like it's about protecting Clark, Lex," he accuses me. "You're protecting your own ass here, too. You certainly wouldn't want your father knowing about this little dalliance, would you?" 

I glance at Clark to try and see how much I should reveal here, but Clark isn't offering any help. I quickly decide to go with the truth on this point as well. I'm already in so deep, what can it really hurt? "He already knows," I say with a soft sigh. 

"What?" the older man shouts at me. "How?" 

"That's not really important," I tell him. I catch my hand going to my head in mid-swipe. This conversation is making me uncomfortable enough as it is. I really don't want to have to relive that particular scene with my father. "The only thing that's relevant is that he knows. He's not happy, but he knows." That doesn't mean that he wants this getting out to anyone else, of course. 

Clark's father mutters under his breath. I'm not sure, but I think he might be swearing. "So, what are you going to do?" he asks me eventually. 

"I'm going to call this asshole and see what he wants," I say fiercely. 

Clark's father nods. He seems to be granting me permission to carry out my plan, not that I really needed it from him. I haven't needed anyone's permission to conduct my own business for years. I pull my phone out of my jacket pocket, and then push my chair back from the table a little bit. I want to get comfortable so that I can feel that I'm doing this on my own terms, at least a little bit. It's important for me to be in control. I glance over at Clark and he smiles slightly. He reaches out to take my hand, and I let him. I hear his father's grunt of disapproval at that action, but I ignore it. If he has a problem, he can give voice to it or he can just ignore it. I'm not going to let his pre-verbal grunts run my life. I dial the number on the note and wait as it rings twice before it's answered. 

"Ah, Mr. Luthor, finally," the person on the other end of the phone greets me smoothly. I must be the only person he's given this number to. 

"Yes, what do you want?" I ask coldly. I know this voice. I just can't quite seem to place it. If I can keep him talking, I know it will come to me. I have a memory for these types of things. 

"Did your boyfriend's parents like their delivery this morning?" he asks me and laughs slightly. He's amused with himself. It's that little laugh, though, that lets me know who this is. It sounds like he's choking on his own tongue when he does it. There's only one person I've ever met who laughs quite like that. 

"I'm not amused, Cooper," I tell him. 

"Shit," he says. It's muffled, so he must have pulled the phone away from his face before he said it, but I still hear it. 

"What? You didn't think I'd figure it out? I assume you heard what happened to Nixon when he tried this on me a little while ago?" 

Cooper snorts and laughs at me. "I'm not quite as stupid as Nixon, Lex. You're not nearly that powerful, and I know how to use a cell phone dampener as well as you do," he says. Okay, so he's just called my bluff. It worked so well on Nixon, too. He'd eventually figured it out, I'm sure, but by then I had what I needed on him and his brother. I'm absolutely sure that Nixon won't be crossing me again in the future. 

"Well, then what do you want, Cooper?" I ask flatly. 

"Same thing Nixon did." 

"I want the negatives," I tell him. 

He laughs at me. I was pretty sure that he would. "You'll be lucky when your friends at the Inquisitor don't get it for their front page on Monday, Lex. I can just see it now. Lex Luthor's underage lover." 

"He's sixteen," I growl. "You should have done a little more research." 

"Oh really? That's not what I heard," Cooper taunts me. 

"And who is this oh-so-great source of yours?" 

"Yeah, right, Lex," Cooper snorts. 

"Look, you'll be getting a lot of money in this deal; you owe me." 

Cooper laughs again. I wonder if he's killing himself on his own tongue. "Let's just say that your father should be more careful about the lawyers he hires." 

Fucking Donolson. That's it. This time he has gone way too far. He's gone as soon as I get on the phone with my father. I should have gotten rid of him a long time ago. 

"So we have a deal?" Cooper asks me. 

"There's no deal unless I get the negatives. I'm serious about that Cooper. You're not coming back after me next month for more of the same," I tell him flatly. I'm serious. I won't pay him that much money if I don't get the fucking negatives. 

He's silent for several long moments, probably while he debates my resolve. "Fine," he eventually snarls, "you'll get the damn negatives, Lex. Do we have a deal now?" 

"I'll call you back," I tell him. 

I'm about to hang up when he tells me, "Don't take too long, Lex. I'm serious about the Inquisitor. They may not pay me as much, but they'll definitely pay me." 

I hang up violently and toss the phone on the table. Fuck. I run the hand not attached to Clark over my head and breathe deeply. This is not fucking good. I think I may have said that out loud because Clark's mother is looking at me like she wants to tell me to watch my language. 

"So?" Clark's father asks me pointedly after my little display of anger is over. 

"Raymond Cooper. He's a photographer. Often sells his work to the Inquisitor when he can't manage to extract the price he wants from people. I've had run-ins with him before," I tell them quickly. Clark's hand tightens around mine while I speak. It actually becomes tight enough to hurt mildly, and I glance down at him curiously. He immediately drops my hand. He has a guilty look on his face. I don't think he meant to hurt me, he's just upset and not totally in control. 

"And what price does he want?" Clark's father asks me sharply. The edge in his voice draws my eyes away from Clark and to him. I think that's exactly what he intended. He's trying to distract me from thinking about Clark's strength. This is some kind of family secret. I bet they know about his incredibly high pain threshold as well. I wonder what other family secrets they're hiding. 

"Lex?" Clark asks me when I don't answer right away. I glance at him and then back at both his parents. They look worried and more so than before. I think they know that I'll eventually figure out their secret if I continue to see Clark. I bet that worries them as much, or perhaps even more, than the fact that Clark may be gay. 

"A hundred thousand," I tell them evenly. 

"Shit," Clark whispers from beside me. The word is no sooner out than he flushes and slaps his hand across his mouth, embarrassed to have cursed in front of his parents. For their part, his parents just gasp at my words and seem to ignore Clark's slip completely. 

"We'll have to sell part of the farm. There's no way we can get another loan," Mr. Kent says softly to his wife. There are tears in her eyes, but I can see her nodding. I know I wasn't supposed to hear that. 

"What?" I snap, and now it's my mouth that's ahead of my brain. 

"We can't pay you back right away, Lex, but you'll get every cent we owe you," he tells me earnestly. There's resentment and anger in his eyes. He's willing to do it, though. I can tell he would give up everything he owns, if he had to, in order to save Clark from the embarrassment of being labeled as my lover. 

"No one is selling anything," I insist, "and if anyone is paying anything it will be me, and you will not owe me anything." My voice is louder than I had intended, and I can feel that my face is flushed with anger. Another damned over-emotional reaction. I take a deep breath and tell myself that I'm in control here. I need to be in control. I know I'm not, though, and that scares the hell out of me. 

"You've made it clear you have nothing to lose here, Lex. There's no reason for you to have to pay to make this go away," he tells me. 

Fuck, why is he always so prideful about these things? Can't he see that if I weren't involved in this the situation wouldn't even exist? No one blackmails an organic farmer in the middle of nowhere. They blackmail people like me, people who have money and things to hide. People like them who only have things to hide and no money make very poor targets indeed. The money means nothing to me. I've spent more on cars I barely use. To them it's their entire lifestyle. 

"I have everything to lose here," I blurt out angrily. I may as well just give up with the hope that I'll stop acting emotionally anytime soon because it simply isn't going to happen. "Look," I say with a sigh a moment later, "I know you don't believe me, but I really do care about your son. The last thing I want is for him to be hurt. Just let me take care of this, please?" 

I know Clark's father isn't going to agree to that, but luckily his mother chooses that time to assert her influence over her husband. "Okay," she says and places her hand over her husband's on the table. "Please just make this go away, Lex." There's pleading and fear in her eyes. It's not fear of me, though. It's fear of what could happen if I don't succeed. I won't let that happen, failure is not an option here. 

I nod slowly and then turn back to look at Clark. I reach out to take his hand again, and he gives it to me. I can see his father scowling at me from across the table, but I don't let it stop me from connecting with Clark. It's unlikely that his father can think any worse of me than he does right now anyhow. "I need to go and take care of this," I tell him softly. "I'll call you tonight." 

Clark nods. "Okay," he says. His voice seems to stick in his throat. I never wanted to make him feel this way. 

I stand up and let go of Clark's hand. "I'm so sorry," I tell his parents. His mother nods slightly. His father just continues to stare at me like he wants to come across the table and punch me. 

I turn and walk out the kitchen door. I'm almost all the way back to my car when I realize that Clark's right behind me. He wasn't there a moment ago so that means he's moving faster than I expected again. I stop and turn around to look at him. "Clark," I manage to get out before he wraps his arms around me and pulls me in tight against his chest. 

"Lex," he gasps against my ear. 

"Clark, it's going to be okay, I promise. I'll take care of this and then I'll call you later." 

"Promise?" he asks and I don't know if he's making me promise that I'll call or that I'll make everything all right again. 

"Yes, I promise," I tell him. 

"Okay," he says and hugs me tighter before letting me slip from his arms. "Love you Lex," he tells me. 

The fact that he can still say that and mean it tears at my heart. What he feels for me is so incredibly strong. I have done nothing in my life to deserve this type of devotion from anyone. 

"Love you too, Gorgeous," I tell him almost without thinking about it. It's amazing how easily the words seem to come out now that I've said them before. He knows already, it's not a secret. He loves me, he's safe, and it's okay. 

I walk the rest of the way to my car, get in and then drive away. I watch him watching me all the way down the lane and to the main road. 

* * *

I end up paying off Cooper because it's the only thing I can think of that will protect Clark and his family without turning me into the type of monster that Clark would never be able to love. I have nothing on the guy; he's disgustingly clean. I can't play him the same way that I did Nixon. I briefly consider having him killed, but it's a passing fancy at best. A couple of months ago it might have been a serious consideration, but now there's Clark, and he's changed me into this whole new person that I barely recognize just by wanting to be with me. I can't cross that line anymore. If I did, he couldn't love me, and I could never live with that. 

I call Cooper when I get back to the mansion. He picks up right away, and it's pretty obvious that he's been waiting for my call. We arrange to meet at a restaurant in Metropolis, which means I need to head back to the city right away. The money is easy enough to obtain. I still have the briefcase from when Nixon tried this in November. At the time I had kept it because I was insanely proud of manipulating the man into doing what I wanted. Now I'm just glad I did so that I don't have to go down to the bank again and deal with the manager who still looks at me like he thinks I might try to rob them. 

We meet at the restaurant at six. I bring the briefcase and he brings the negatives. We eat, casually, as if nothing is going on. He checks the briefcase discretely and then hands over the envelope with the negatives. He's smiling broadly. I want to strangle him. I pull out the negatives and check them. In addition to the picture he sent to us there're a couple of others of Clark and I touching and kissing. There's even one of me pushing him away when I told him that we were there to watch the game, not to make out. I nod and then give him a look that says if he tries this on me again I really will kill him. He seems to take it seriously because he looks damned scared. We shake hands and then part company. 

I drive back to Smallville in a haze of anger. I call Clark from somewhere on the road. It's eight. His mother answers and when I ask to speak to him she tells me he's sleeping and that she doesn't want to disturb him. I want to believe her, but I also remember the last time she lied to me about the fact that Clark was grounded. I ask her to tell him that I called and she promises that she will. I hang up and turn on the stereo. It's loud, almost loud enough to drown out the little voice in my head that's telling me that I will never see Clark again. 

* * *

I wake suddenly and sit straight up in bed. It's dark; the sky must have clouded up since I went to bed because no moonlight is coming in the windows. My heart is beating fast. Someone's in my room. I know it the same way I know my first name or what day I was born on. It's instinctive knowledge. I don't have to think about it or find it somewhere. I just wake up and I know: someone's in my room. 

I fumble for the light on the bedside table to turn it on, but before I can reach the switch a large hand lands on my shoulder and holds me in place. "It's okay, Lex. It's just me," he tells me in a low voice. 

Clark. I sigh in relief, and then actually manage to switch the light on. "Shit, Clark. Don't sneak up on me like that," I snap at him. 

He smiles at me sheepishly and then swoops in to steal a kiss. It's soft and gentle and sweet. "Sorry," he tells me when he pulls away. 

"'s okay," I tell him softly, and glance down at the time on the clock on the bedside table. It's well past midnight, in fact it's quickly approaching one o'clock. "What are you doing here?" I ask him curiously when I turn back to look at him. 

"Wanted to see you," he tells me, kicks off his shoes, and climbs onto the bed next to me. He's still on top of the comforter, but he snuggles into my side the best he can. 

I smile and thread my fingers through his hair. "I don't know if this is a good time to be sneaking out of your parents' house, Clark," I tell him softly. I love having him here but I'm worried about what will happen if his parents find out. As if things aren't bad enough right now. If I'm ever going to get back into their good books, I'm going to need to be extra careful with Clark. 

"Are you going to send me home?" he asks me pointedly, and stares up into my eyes. 

"No," I confess and draw him closer to my chest. 

"So, then don't waste our time telling me how bad an idea this is. I've heard enough of it tonight to last me a lifetime." Clark leans down to kiss me and I let him. 

I was so worried when I wasn't allowed to speak to him earlier and now here he is, back in my bed. I feel relieved. Eventually he pulls out of the kiss and then settles back down at my side. I run my fingers through his hair, stroking the silky strands and gently massaging his scalp. He closes his eyes but I can tell he isn't even close to falling asleep. 

"Were they hard on you?" I ask softly. 

"I don't know," Clark tells me with a sigh. "Dad's angry, but you were right, he's mostly angry at you. He just keeps telling me what a bad idea it is to get involved with you, that you'll end up hurting me or leaving whenever you find something more interesting. Mom's worried that I'll get hurt because you're so much older than me. That seems to bother her more than the fact that you're you," he says, and looks up at me with a smile. "I think Mom secretly likes you." 

"I think she does too, imp," I tell him with my own smile. "So, they didn't ground you?" 

"Well, no," Clark tells me. "I'm just not supposed to see you until they decide what they want to do about the situation." 

"Clark," I say in renewal of my protest of his being here now. 

"Lex," he returns in exactly the same tone I used. "I want to be with you. I know it's right. I'm not going to stay away from you, even for them." He tells me this like he's thought it out. 

I stare at him for a long moment and then shake my head. "I'm a bad influence on you," I tell him with a laugh. 

He rolls his eyes. He's heard that a number of times tonight as well, I'm sure. 

We're silent for some time after that. He snuggles tightly into me and I stroke his hair. It's comforting. It's what we both need right now. "You going to stay?" I ask him after about five minutes of silence. 

"For a while," he tells me, "if you'll let me." 

Of course I'll let him stay. "You plan on getting under the covers, then?" 

"Umm, yeah," he says and climbs off the bed. 

I pull back the cover, and he moves to get in. "No," I tell him firmly and he stops in mid-movement. He looks up at me in mild confusion. He thinks I've just told him two different things. "You're not getting in this bed with your clothes on," I tell him. The thought of his jeans rasping against my bare flesh is almost too much to even consider. 

"Oh," he mouths and then looks down at himself. He almost looks surprised to find that he's wearing clothing. I can only wonder what he had expected to see. "Sorry," he tells me. 

"'s okay," I tell him. "Strip, get in bed, stop making me wait for you," I tell him good-naturedly. 

"Okay," he says and starts pulling at his clothes. He's undressed in a matter of seconds, and then crawls into bed next to me. 

"What time does your father get up?" I ask him, and reach over to grab the alarm clock. 

"What?" he asks me. He sounds confused. 

"Your father. So I can set the alarm in case we fall asleep." 

"Oh," he says with a smile. "Five-thirty." 

"I'll set it for four-thirty?" 

"Sounds fine," he tells me and settles down in the bed. 

"Okay." I set the alarm and then roll back over to lie next to him. 

Clark pulls me close to him and maneuvers me so that I'm lying on his chest. Usually I don't enjoy being manhandled, not even by Clark, but apparently he's feeling possessive and I'm unsettled enough that I'll go with it. I allow myself to be pulled into his arms and I rest my head on his chest. I use my right hand to gently explore his chest. Clark moans softly and runs his own fingers over my head and then down my back. 

"Mine," he whispers and I laugh softly in response. 

Yours for as long as you'll have me, Clark. 

I sigh contentedly and close my eyes. The last thought I have before I fall back asleep is how nice it is just to be with someone and have no expectations as far as sex goes. 

* * *

My desk phone beeps and I pick it up. "Yes?" I ask David. 

"There's a Mr. Kent here to see you," my assistant tells me blandly. 

"Clark?" I ask, even though I've never heard David refer to my young lover that way before. There's always hope that it's not his father. 

"Jonathan," he tells me. 

I groan internally. I can't imagine what else the man thinks he has to say to me. "Show him in," I tell David and then hang up. A moment later my door opens and Clark's father walks in purposefully. I watch him as he sits down across from me. 

"I assume that you've taken care of it, or you would have said something to Martha last night when you talked to her," he says. 

I nod. "It's taken care of," I tell him. "But I know you didn't come all the way out here just to ask me that. You could have phoned. What do you want?" 

"Clark was here last night," he says flatly. He doesn't sound particularly angry, in fact if I needed to place the emotion in his voice, I'd say he almost sounds sad and resigned. 

"Yes," I tell him eventually with a nod. 

He looks straight at me for a long minute, and then sighs and shakes his head. "At least you didn't try to deny it," he tells me. "I heard him come in around five. I couldn't imagine anywhere else he would have been so early in the morning." 

"We just talked," I assure him. Usually I wouldn't care what he thought, but he's Clark's father and the last thing I want is for him to make it more difficult for Clark and I to see each other. He cuts off anything else I would have said with a shake of his head. 

"I really don't want to know," he tells me candidly. I nod my acceptance of that, and wait for him to continue with whatever he's come here to say to me. He looks down at his hands for a moment and then back up at me. "I want you to stay away from Clark," he tells me. 

That's pretty much what I had expected. "Forbidding this won't do you any good," I tell him. There's a taunting tone in my voice that I know he can't have missed. 

"I'm not forbidding it," he tells me quickly. 

"Could have fooled me," I laugh coolly. "If you're not forbidding this, then what are you doing?" 

He sighs. Whatever he's doing, it isn't easy for him. "I'm asking you, as someone who says he loves my son, to do what's best for him, for all of us, and stay away from him." 

"How is that what's best for Clark and me?" 

"You know that Clark's special, different, don't you, Lex?" he asks me. His eyes are clouded with pain and I can well imagine how difficult it is for him to come here and ask me this. He probably has never spoken to anyone outside of his immediate family about Clark's differences. 

"There are a lot of kids in Smallville that are different, Mr. Kent," I tell him. "How is Clark any different from that?" 

"Clark is different from them. He's a good kid, and he would never hurt anyone, but it would be too easy for someone to manipulate him into doing something he didn't want to if he thought he was protecting us... or you," he says the last like he needs to force it out of his mouth. 

The thought that Clark could possibly do something illegal in order to protect me stops me cold. I had never really thought about it before, I know that he just might do it if he thought he had to. Oh, he would probably be able justify it to himself, but I don't know how I would ever be able to live with the idea that he did it because of me. I'll just have to make it very clear to him that nothing is worth him compromising his morals for me. 

"I haven't told anyone, if that's what you think," I tell Clark's father fiercely. 

He nods slightly. "Maybe you haven't, Lex, but you're too public. There are too many people around you, watching what you do, poking into your life. Eventually someone else would figure out about Clark and then it would be all over." 

I frown and close my eyes. He's making too much sense, and I wish I could find something wrong with his logic. I could hurt Clark just by being with him, no matter how much I care about him. I shudder when my father's face pops into my mind. What would happen if my father somehow found out that Clark was different, that he could do things that normal people couldn't? He would want to know how it all worked. He would want to know why Clark was different. He would try to take Clark away and discover all his secrets. I can't let that happen, no matter what. 

But I don't need to be away from Clark to help protect his secrets. In fact, it's probably better if I stay as close as possible so that I know what's going on, so that I can protect him better. I wouldn't be the only public person who had a private life. Others did just well keeping their love interests and affairs in the private domain. I'm just a businessman, it's not like I'm an actor or a pubic official or something like that, and people aren't that interested in my life. 

"The last thing I want is for Clark to be hurt," I say sincerely, "but I'm not so bad at hiding things when I need to." Clark and I are right together, there has to be a way to make it work and still protect this secret of theirs. It's simply not possible that the world would be cruel enough to give me everything I ever wanted just to take it away again almost immediately afterwards. 

"But Clark..." he starts. I cut him off before he can finish whatever he was going to say. 

"Clark's been hiding this, whatever it is, his entire life, hasn't he? He hasn't done such a bad job." 

"He's never needed to stand up to scrutiny before, though. Being with you is going to make people want to know things about him, and that will lead to nothing but trouble. You need to stop this relationship," Mr. Kent says. His voice is sad and tired. "I want you to end this with him. You can tell him whatever you want, but I want you to take responsibility for it. I don't want him thinking that he can get you back somehow. And then that's it Lex, it's over. I don't want you around my boy anymore." 

I laugh cruelly at him. "You really don't like the fact that your kid might be gay, do you?" I demand. As much as I know that his fears about Clark are valid, I also think there's more here. I don't think he'd want me to be with Clark, even if I wasn't me. "You're afraid that people will talk about your ability to raise a normal child." 

Anger flashes across his face, and he stares at me for a long moment before responding. "That's not what this is about and you know it," he tells me coolly. 

I snort. "Just keep telling yourself that," I tell him snidely. 

"If you really love him, you will do this. You know it's the only way to keep him safe from your world," Clark's father tells me. 

"Even if I did try, Clark won't leave me easily," I warn his father. 

He thinks about this for a moment before nodding. "Do whatever you need to do, Lex." 

I can only stare at him for a long minute. Did Jonathan Kent just give me permission to rip out his son's heart? This man who says he loves his son, this man who has become the model of fatherhood for me, has just told me that I can devastate his kid and that's okay with him. And why? To protect some secret they don't want the rest of the world to know? So that Clark can stay free of public scrutiny but live with a broken heart for the rest of his life? 

"You're a bastard," I tell Clark's father in the coolest voice I can manage. He just continues to stare at me. He's so sure that he's right. 

My desk phone beeps. I don't know what David wants, but whatever it is can wait. I ignore it. 

Clark's father and I continue our staring match. I'm so angry right now. I don't know what to do. I want to come across my desk and hit him for even suggesting that I should hurt Clark in that way. I want to scream and cry out in anger and frustration over the fact that he may be right, that I may not be able to protect Clark enough. Why the hell is the world so unfair? I think someone must really hate me. 

My desk phone beeps again and I don't know what the fuck David thinks he's doing. He should be able to tell that I don't want to be bothered. I snatch up the phone in my left hand. "What?" I demand at almost the same moment that my office door opens. I look up and see him standing in the doorway. 

"Your father," David tells me. He sounds calmer than I expect he really feels. 

"Thank you," I tell him softly and hang up. "Father," I greet the man standing in the door. 

Mr. Kent turns to look at him and scowls. I know they have history, that's been pretty obvious from the first time I met Clark's father. He didn't just hate me because he'd heard Luthors are bad news. He hated me because he knew that Luthors are bad news, and that meant he had met my father at some time in the past. "Lionel," he growls. 

"Jonathan," my father says with a nod, and then walks into the room. He leaves the door open behind him. That isn't like him at all. "Could you leave so I can talk to my son alone?" 

"You knew about this relationship," Mr. Kent accuses my father. 

My father snorts sarcastically. "So? You expected me to tell you? I don't owe you anything, Jonathan," my father says haughtily. 

"You don't owe me anything for my silence for all these years?" Clark's father demands. "After what you did to Susan and me?" 

My heart jumps because I know that name. It's connected to the only real scandal I've ever heard about that is associated with my father. It's something that Donolson had told me so long ago now. How is Clark's father involved in it, though? 

"It's not my fault if you chose not to take anything. We both know that you didn't keep quiet for me." My father moves closer to where Mr. Kent is sitting and glares down at him. "Leave," he says coldly. 

Clark's father stands up then and for a moment I think that he's going to hit my father. Not that I'm worried about dear old dad, but it would be messy and things could get broken. I don't want to have to have things replaced or my office cleaned in the middle of the day if I don't have to. He glares at my father for a long time and then turns back to look at me again. "Good day, Lex," he tells me. He turns to walk out, pointedly ignoring my father. He shuts the door heavily. 

My father seems unfazed and takes the chair that Clark's father just vacated. He drops the briefcase he's carrying on the floor and then looks up at me. "So, he was here whining about his kid?" 

"Father," I snap. "I'm in no mood. What do you want?" 

"You paid him off," Father says pointedly. My stomach drops. How can he know about that? 

"Cooper?" 

"Cooper?" my father mimics my surprised expression. "Of course, Cooper. Is anyone else blackmailing you these days? You involved in anything else questionable, Lex?" 

"No," I tell him. He's leaning back in the chair now, looking pretty smug. "You're involved in this, aren't you?" 

Father snorts. "You didn't honestly think that Donolson would ever do anything I didn't specifically tell him to do, did you?" he demands with a raised eyebrow. 

Oh, really? 

"Did you tell him to fuck me, too?" I demand and my father just smiles in response. In that moment I want to kill him. What did he think that would accomplish? Was he just trying to confirm the rumors that said I would fuck anything that moved? "Did you know he told me about Julia?" I ask softly. I'm so surprised when I see his face pale. I can't believe that I've won one against him. I know who's getting fired tonight. The bastard deserves it, too. 

"What did he tell you?" he asks quietly. It's his scary quiet voice, hard like diamond and deadly as ice. 

"It was after he had gotten the charges dropped. We were drunk and I said something about how you must be glad you only have one kid since I'm so expensive and Donolson was nice enough to point out that I wasn't your only progeny. He told me about Susan and Julia and the whole thing." That's a little bit of an exaggeration in itself. Donolson had told me that there had been a woman named Susan that my father had fooled around with and that Susan had a daughter, Julia. Since my dear dad still made payments to Susan, Donolson could only assume that Julia was his daughter. 

"I know about the payments you make to Susan, Father," I tell him coldly when he doesn't respond right away. I stare at him, daring him to deny it, daring him to tell me that he hadn't cheated on my mother while she was pregnant with me. 

He doesn't though. He just leans back in his chair and grins coldly. "You know it was for you, so that your inheritance would be unquestioned." 

"Very sloppy, though. You should have made it go away," I chide him. My voice is steady, but my mind is racing feverishly. That bastard, he really had done it. All this time I thought that maybe Donolson was wrong; that there would have been some other explanation. Fantasy, I know, but still. He fucking well cheated on my mother. She was pregnant so he turned to someone else. I didn't think I could hate him more than I already did, but now I know it's possible. 

"Children don't just go away, Lex. Especially when their mothers won't be sensible enough to have an abortion and take your money," my father tells me. "Not that you'll ever need to deal with that problem at the rate you're going." 

I snort in response. I still think he could have taken care of the situation better. He thinks he's so smart 

"So what was this, father? Some kind of test?" I glare at him steadily. 

"Everything's a test, Lex. Quite frankly I expected better of you, especially after the way you dealt with Nixon." 

The bastard. He's somehow been involved in it all, ever since I got here. He sent me out here to let all the talk about me die down a little bit, but he also sent me out here to see if he could trust me to be loyal to our family, to protect the business at all costs. Clark's just another convenient learning experience for him to exploit to teach me what he wants me to know, that a Luthor needs to be ruthless no matter what. 

"What the fuck did you expect me to do?" I demand of him. 

"I expected you to take care of the situation." 

"Cooper's not as easy to control as Nixon," I tell him harshly, "he's completely clean." 

"I know," my father tells me with a small, cold grin. 

Bastard. He had expected me to have Cooper killed. That was probably the only thing I could have done that would have satisfied his test. I feel myself pale, and my father must know that I know exactly what he's talking about. 

"Don't tell me it didn't cross your mind, Lex," he drawls. He knows me just as well as I know myself. He knows that I'm capable of almost everything that he is, and he's right, it did cross my mind. "What held your hand? That Kent child? Were you afraid he would think less of you?" 

"Fuck you," I snap. He's right, if it weren't for Clark I probably would have seriously considered having Cooper killed. I'm glad that I hadn't, though, because of Clark, but also because I don't want to be my father, and having someone killed just to protect the company would make me exactly like him. 

My father raises an eyebrow at me. Damn my emotions. "Control yourself, Lex. You know you've failed. You let yourself be manipulated. All for what? A sixteen-year-old boy? Was he really worth the money?" My father stands up and walks around the side of my desk. He reaches out and touches my cheek as he talks. I flinch away. Sometimes he's a little creepy this way, nothing over the line, but more tactile than I like. In fact, I've never really liked anyone touching me except Clark. He's the only one who's ever gotten past enough of my barriers for me to allow casual touching. 

"Yes," I say fiercely and stare at my father, daring him to contradict me. 

He holds my eyes for a long minute and then nods. "And that's why you aren't going to see him anymore, Lex," he tells me. It's not even an order; it's simply a statement of fact. Like he thinks I'm really just going to do whatever he wants for no reason what so ever. 

"I'll do whatever I want," I tell him loudly. "I don't need your permission for this relationship, Father." 

"Oh, but I think you do, Lex," he draws his words out slowly and runs his hand along the back of my chair as he speaks. He leans down so that he's right in my face before speaking again. "I really think you do." 

"I don't need your fucking money," I tell him. It's the first time I've ever told him that to his face. I've said it to a lot of people. Come to think of it, I said it to Donolson years ago, so he probably heard it from the man, but I've never said it directly to my father before. 

He laughs at me and pulls back out of my face. "Your mother's money would never keep you in the kind of lifestyle you're used to, Lex," he tells me with a cynical smile. "But that's not why you need my permission for this relationship. You need it because I own your boy's parents." He walks over to where he's dropped his briefcase next to the chair he was sitting in. He extracts a folder and passes it over to me. 

I look at him with pure hate in my eyes, but eventually open the file and look at the contents. Inside is a complete copy of Clark's adoption record. The birth certificate is the same one I saw before and it looks fine but the death certificate of his 'birth mother' looks very suspicious, and if I can tell there's something wrong, I'm sure a trained professional would be able to as well. Shit, Clark. Where the hell did your parents get you? Did they steal you from somewhere? They don't seem the type, but I know desperate people can do anything and I can almost imagine Clark's mother being so desperate for a child of her own that she would do anything. 

I close my eyes and find my hand traveling up to my head. Shit, not in front of my father. I reach for the water that I've forgotten on my desk and put that in my hand instead. I drink deeply, wishing it was alcohol, but I'm willing to make do with what I have on hand. I continue to page through the file and find a doctor's report that's shorter than I expected and basically just says that Clark's healthy. No immunization or blood typing records are in the file. The doctor who wrote the report is one I recognize from town, probably a personal friend of the Kents. I wonder if he ever even saw Clark. 

"Shit," I whisper as I close the file after I've gone through the whole thing. 

"You continue this relationship and the Metropolis PD will receive a copy of this file and the Kents' address. You wouldn't want Clark to be removed from their care, would you Lex? Who knows where he might end up at this point? And they'd inevitably be charged with kidnapping since they obviously didn't receive him in any legal way." 

"You're a bastard," I snarl. 

"And you're a romantic fool, Lex. Luthors can't afford these kinds of emotional attachments. Look what it's done to you. Cooper can manipulate you, I can manipulate you, and there's nothing you can do about it because you've deluded yourself into thinking that you have some kind of feelings for this child." 

"Fuck you," I snap back. 

My father laughs at my childish display. "Is that all you have, Lex? I would have thought better of you than that." 

"I'll tell about Julia," I threaten. It's a last-ditch effort but it might be enough to get him to relent on his demand. 

I know right away that it isn't because he doesn't look the least bit worried. He smiles evilly at me and gives another little snort of laughter. "Susan will deny it and the blood tests will come back negative. Don't be stupid, Lex. I own these people. They won't cross me if they know what's good for them and they do." He walks over and picks up his briefcase from where he left it on the chair. "You keep that, Lex. I have other copies," he tells me and then walks out of the room. 

"Fucking bastard," I call after him just before the door closes behind him. I hear the beginning of his crack of laughter before the door shuts heavily between us. 

* * *

It seems, and this may be true for a lot of people, that as soon as I think my day can't possibly get any worse it invariably does. It's days like today that make me hate my life, that make me wish I had been born anyone except Alexander Joseph Luthor. Clark's father wants me to end our relationship. My father is demanding that I end it, or he'll tear Clark's family apart. My heart, the one that I've just rediscovered, is breaking. So, it only makes sense that there would be some kind of problem at the plant that would require me to head out there almost immediately after my father left my office. 

I sigh and lean back into the chair that I've collapsed into. I've just spent 12 hours at the plant and I'm exhausted. Production had been down for the last few days and then early this afternoon they had started detecting impurities in the end fertilizer product, impurities that couldn't be explained by any known problems with the line. So they had needed to check the entire process before they could track it down to a shipment of organics last week that contained pieces of that strange green meteor rock that was so prevalent around here. We had to flush out the tanks and start again from scratch. Of course, we also have a disposal nightmare now, but my employees will take care of the rest of it from here. 

I should drag myself up to my room, but I'm so tired that I can barely move. I just want to rest here for a moment and then I'll get up. Even as I think that, I know I'll fall asleep in this chair. I feel like I'm carrying the weight of the world on my shoulder. I couldn't move even if my life depended on it. My eyes are heavy and my mind is drifting off into sleep. 

"Lex?" he asks and I can feel his hand on my thigh. It's big and warm, and it feels so very real. 

"Clark," I murmur. It's so nice that I would dream of him now. I need him, just for a little while longer, to chase the demons away. I know I'll have to give him up eventually, but not yet, not now. 

"Lex, are you okay?" he asks me. He's so caring, so concerned with my well-being. I've never had anyone who constantly cared for me so much. Even my mother had other responsibilities, times when I couldn't be her first priority, when she needed to be away attending to one thing or another, but with Clark it's like he's dedicated his life to taking care of me. 

"Mmm, tired," I mutter. 

He laughs softly and runs his hand over my head. Oh that's nice. I never really liked my head being stroked before. I've always associated the feeling with unease, but when Clark does it, it's so calming. His hand settles at the back of my neck and begins massaging me gently. "I can see that," he says. I feel him lean in and kiss me on the cheek. "Let's get you up to bed." 

"Can't move," I tell dream Clark. 

"It's okay," he tells me with a soft laugh. 

I don't know what he means by that but a moment later I feel like I'm floating in his arms. He's carrying me. I'm not really a light guy, but Clark's more than strong enough to manage my weight. That's nice. I settle against his chest and drift off fully into my sleep. 

* * *

I wake up slowly. The light is bright in my room, so that means I've slept in well past my usual wake-up time. I can't say that I care though, because right now there's this deliciously warm feeling wrapped around my cock and I know that someone is sucking me off. They're doing a pretty good job of it, too. It's so good. Mmm, Clark. I close my eyes again, lean back into my pillow, and moan softly. 

The heat leaves my cock just for a moment and I open my eyes to look down at the person sharing my bed. He draws back the sheet. His rumpled head pokes out from under the black fabric and he smiles up at me. "You're awake," he observes breathily. 

Clark crawls up my body and kisses me soundly. His tongue drifts into my mouth and I can taste just a hint of myself on his tongue. I love that flavor of him and me together. It's addictive. His tongue travels through my mouth slowly, exploring areas that I know he already knows well. Every time is like the first time with Clark. I wonder if that's because of how young he is. 

Eventually he finishes kissing me and pulls back. He grins cheekily at me, kisses me on the nose and then returns to his task of sucking my cock. 

"Yes," I confirm my status as being awake. "Yes," I gasp again when his mouth wraps around my cock once more. 

I can feel an aching and throbbing in my groin that I was unaware of before. I'm so hard. I need to come so badly. I'm so close, closer than I usually am this soon. I wonder how long he was sucking me before I woke up because this feels like he's been going at it for a while. 

Clark must be able to tell I'm close because he sucks hard, running his tongue up and down my length and then back up around the head. I've taught him exactly what to do to bring me off and he's learnt well. His talented mouth is working me as if he's done this a million times. I reach down and tangle my fingers in his hair. He knows I'm close, I only get grabby when I am, and he opens as wide as he can to take me deep down his throat. It's so good and so right and, I'm coming, hard and long, and screaming his name. I can feel him smiling around my cock and I smile too. 

Eventually he lets me slip out of his mouth and he crawls up the bed to lie next to me. He kisses me thoroughly again and lets me taste myself inside his mouth. He's not the only one who likes to do that afterwards. We pull apart and Clark snuggles into my side and sighs happily. "I love you," he tells me gently. 

It's so strange how those words are the ones that make everything come back to me. The ones that make everything flood back into my tired brain, this weekend, his father, my father, everything. Oh, God. I stiffen and draw away from him slightly. I know he feels it, because he looks up at me with hurt in his eyes. He can't understand why I would draw away from him right after he's told me that he loves me. He thought we were past this particular fear of mine. 

"What's wrong?" he asks softly and reaches out to touch my face. 

"I... Where do your parents think you are?" I ask harshly and slap his hand away. After everything that's happened in the last couple of days, the last thing I need is for them to call the cops because they think I've taken off with their son. 

"I don't care," Clark tells me sharply. "They're going to send me away to live with my aunt and uncle. They don't think you're a good influence." He's looking at me like he's daring me to tell him that he should do what he parents tell him to do. That's so like a sixteen year old to run away from his problems instead of facing them. He's so much younger than me, and all the sudden it really hits me. 

I don't know what to do. This is it, the moment when I have to decide what I'm going to do about Clark. I didn't even have any warning, any chance to work out what I'm going to say. It's so unfair that I have to go into this blind, not knowing how it will turn out. Do I take what I want, him, and let my father destroy everything that his parents have or do I deny myself and him and give him back to the life that he deserves, the one that I could never really give him? Clark deserves to be happy, he deserves to be loved, and he deserves to be with the parents who love him no matter how they came about having him. He needs to be with people who understand his differences and can protect him from the rest of the world. 

That last thought is the deciding factor. Clark needs to be protected from the people who would use him to control me. I care about him too much to allow him to be hurt because of me. I can't let other people get their hands on Clark, people who wouldn't understand him, who might turn him over to some group for study and experimentation. It would only take one doctor, making one call and then Clark could be gone forever. His secrets extracted and studied in who knows what way. Mr. Kent is right; if I love him I will let him go. Who would have thought I would ever make a decision this hard for someone else's good? 

"You should listen to them, Clark. I'm not a good influence," I tell him and then draw even further away from him. I'm out of his arms now. My knees are drawn up to my chest and I'm sitting on the side of the bed. 

"What?" he asks. His voice is hesitant, but it has a slight laugh in it, like he wants to believe that I'm teasing him but he's not really sure what's going on. He reaches out to touch me again but I just slap his hands away once more. I can't bear to let him touch me right now. If I did, I'd just curl into his arms and never want to leave. 

"Being with me will only end up with you being hurt, Clark. You should leave," I tell him. I'm sitting with my legs over the edge of the bed now. My back is to him so that I don't need to see the hurt look on his face. I don't think my resolve would survive that look right now. Knowing what's probably on his face is bad enough. 

"Lex?" he asks softly. There's a catch in his voice. He sounds like he might cry. He reaches out and places his hand on my shoulder. I flinch away from his touch and then stand up. 

I'm naked and I can't remember how I got that way. In fact I remember very little about last night after I got home. I remember sitting in one of the chairs downstairs and closing my eyes. I remember a vague dream about Clark where he came to check on me and then carried me up to bed. I realize that wasn't a dream. Clark had really been in my house last night. If he's been here that long, the Kents must be really worried by now. 

I walk over towards the closet and take out my robe. I can't have this conversation while I don't have anything on. That would just be too cruel to both of us. I move to one of the windows and fix my gaze out of it. 

"I..." I start but my voice catches as well. I feel like I'm going to cry. I can't. I can't let Clark know how much this is hurting me too. I need him to think that I'm pushing him away, rejecting him because I don't want to deal with the complications of having a relationship with a teenaged boy. I can't let him know that I'm only doing this for his own good, that if I had a real choice I would stay with him for the rest of my life. "I think we should end this relationship, Clark. You should go," I tell him strongly. My voice is flat, business-like. It lacks all emotion. 

"Lex," he repeats but this time it's more of a sob. I hear my bed creak softly as he gets up off it. "Please, don't do this. I love you." 

I don't respond. I can't. If I opened my mouth right now everything would come out. I would tell him about his father's request and my father's demand. I would tell him about the adoption papers and what I know about his abilities. I would tell him all of it and then he would be more determined than ever to save me from everything evil in my life. I can't place that on him. He deserves his own life, free of the complications of my world. 

"And... and you love me. I know you do. You told me," he whispers. He's right behind me now. His hand is on my shoulder. His other arm is snaking around my waist, trying to draw me back against him. 

"No," I say sharply and try to shake him off. His grip on me is strong though and his arms grasp me tighter to hold me in place. I panic a little bit in that moment. If I can't get him off me, I'll never be able to complete what I have to do here. "Let me go, Clark," I growl. 

He releases me and steps back. I hear his sob and my resolve almost crumbles, but then I imagine him sobbing as the police take his parents away or him sobbing because he's in pain from some experiment that's being performed on him and I know I'm doing the right thing. Clark needs to be as far away from me as possible. 

"This isn't you, Lex," he cries. "Did my father put you up to this?" His voice is full or anger and hatred and I understand that this could also be a turning point in his relationship with his father. As much as I don't feel that I owe the man anything, I do owe Clark a lot, and if I can give him his father's love then I will. 

"No," I tell him sincerely. There's no reason for him to doubt that what I'm saying is the truth. 

"Your father?" he asks softer. 

This is my chance. I can pull the rich spoiled brat card and maybe Clark will believe it. He's pretty smart, and I know that he thinks he knows me better than that, but he might just have enough doubts about me to believe it. "He'll disown me," I tell him in the same flat voice. 

Clark's silent for a long moment. I can hear him backing up from where I'm standing and crossing the room. "I thought I meant more to you then that, Lex. I thought I was your friend. You told me that you loved me," he chokes on the last words. 

All I want to do is cry out to him that I do love him then rush across the room and take him in my arms. I want to comfort him and make the hurt go away. I want him. I want us. I can't have it and I know it. My hands dig into the windowpane to keep me in place. I grip it so hard that I scrape the skin off the ends of my fingers. It hurts. The hurt is good; it makes me know that I'm still human even though I don't feel like it right now. 

I can hear Clark pulling on his own clothes across the room from me. Something tears as he pulls it on and I know that he's lost control over himself. 

"You're a child, Clark," I tell him. The words feel like they're being torn straight from my soul. All the goodness that he's placed inside of me is coming out with the awful hurtful words. "A foolish, romantic child. Luthors don't love anyone. You should have listened to your father." 

He gasps. He's shocked that I would actually say those words. I almost think that he's going to come over and slap me and, really, I'd deserve it if he does. But in the end, Clark doesn't touch me. 

"Fuck you, Lex," he snarls. 

I laugh ironically because he has and I already know that he'll be the last man who ever does. There will never be another who can take his place, no matter what. My mother once told me, after I asked her why she married my father, that there's one person for everyone in this world. Clark was mine and now he's gone. 

I hear him start towards the door and turn just in time to see him storm out and slam it behind him. The door rattles and shakes in his wake and then cracks down the center. It looks like my heart feels. 

I wait for a good five minutes for him to leave the house before I walk back over to the bed and collapse onto it. When I lie down I can still feel his heat and smell his scent on the sheets. Wrap myself up in them and pretend that they're him. It's the last comfort I'll ever get from Clark. I curl up tightly and finally let myself cry. 

* * *

My phone rings and I snap awake. I look at the clock on the bedside table and see that it's two in the afternoon. I don't know how long I've slept but it's been a few hours. Since maybe half an hour after Clark left me here alone. I close my eyes tightly against that memory. I never even imagined that it would hurt this much when I finally broke it off with him. 

The phone rings again and I look at it. It's sitting next to the alarm clock. I don't remember putting it there. Clark must have after he undressed me last night. My stomach knots up at that thought and for one single adolescent moment I consider never moving it from that spot ever again. 

The phone rings a third time and I finally pick it up. I check the call display and see that it's Clark's home number. Could it be him? Should I take it or not? Can I stand up against an assault of Clark trying to convince me to take him back, to continue this relationship? Fate couldn't be so cruel as to send everything I want begging for me to take it. 

The phone rings for a fourth time. I take a deep breath and decide to bite the bullet and answer. 

"Hello?" I answer calmly. I'm incredibly surprised when my voice doesn't break part way through the word. 

"Lex." It's Clark's father and I can't help but groan in the phone. 

"Look, I did what you wanted," I snap. "Did he not come home?" 

"No, he came home. He's been in his room crying for the last four hours. He won't talk to me but he let his mother take him some soup a while ago. I don't know what you said to him, but... thank you." 

I snort ironically. I hate this man so much right now, almost as much as I hate my own father. "I break your son's heart and you thank me," I say sarcastically. "I never thought anyone would ever thank me for something like that." 

"It's better than that alternative, Lex, and you know it." 

"Fuck you," I snap at him. I've given him what he wants. I don't need to like it. 

We're both silent for a long moment. There's really nothing else to say. 

"You're a good man, Lex. I didn't think you had it in you to do the right thing here," he tells me. "I respect that you did." 

I close my eyes in pain. Fuck, that's hard to hear. "When you met your wife, how did you know she was the one?" I ask him suddenly. I'm not sure where the words have come from but I feel it's incredibly important for me to know. 

"I knew because I was willing to give up what I loved to make her happy," he tells me simply. 

I sigh softly. "Me too," I tell him. 

He grunts softly. He knows that I'm talking about his son and what I've just done. "Good bye, Lex," he says. 

I don't respond. I just hang up and drop the phone. It lands on the floor with a small clatter and I idly wonder if it's broken before realizing that I really don't care. I wonder if I'll ever care about anything ever again. 

* * *

It's Saturday again. Seven days ago we were together, happy. Seven days ago we were laughing and smiling and the biggest concern I had was how to get Clark away from a silly girl at a basketball game. Seven days ago we made love, really made love, for the first time. Clark fucked me, loved me, had been inside my body. Seven days ago I realized I was in love for the first, and likely only, time in my life. We were on top of the world. We should have been more cautious with that feeling. 

Six days ago it had all came crumbling down around us. My world fell apart that day. Now I can't feel anything. I'm numb all over all the time. I can't do anything either. I'm lethargic and useless. I don't care about anything that happens. There's nothing more that I can lose. I'm broken and I know it. I'm broken and my father knows it. He sent me here to break me from my rebellion and he's succeeded. He hadn't really had to do anything to make it happen, either. I brought it all upon myself by thinking that I could fall in love and come out of it unscathed, by thinking that my father would ever allow me to fall in love and actually stay with that person. 

I look down at the envelope sitting on my desk and sigh. It's been there since Wednesday and I have a pretty good idea what it is. It's from Clark's cousin, Cindy, and there's only one thing that I can imagine she would have sent me, the picture that she had taken of Clark and I on Christmas Day. We had just come down a hill on the sled and we were both laughing. We were looking at each other and I was thinking about how badly I wanted to be able to kiss Clark right then and there, and suddenly Cindy had snapped the picture. She promised to send me a copy when she got the film developed and it must have taken her this long to do it. I had almost completely forgotten about it until the envelope arrived this week. 

I haven't been able to open it. I don't know if I can look at the picture of Clark and me so happy together now that we're not. Ah, fuck it. I can't feel any worse than I do right now. I pick up the envelope and slit it open. As I expected, it's the picture and a short note from Cindy. The picture is great and almost exactly like I remembered. We're both dusted with snow, laughing broadly and looking at each other. Our heads are so close together that we would be kissing if we got any closer. The love in our eyes is obvious, at least to me. It must be to Cindy as well because when I look at her note my heart skips a beat. 

Lex, 

You guys are a cute couple. Don't worry, I won't tell Aunt Martha and Uncle Jon. Take care of Clark, hey? He's pretty special. Oh, and I sent a copy to him too. I had a great time that day and I hope you did too. Hope to see you soon. 

Take Care,  
Cindy 

I drop the note and the picture onto my desk. We look so happy, so carefree. I wish I could go back to that day and stay in that time indefinitely. I wish I could change the way it all turned out, but I honestly don't know how I could have. In a very real way our relationship was doomed from the moment it started. 

I don't know how to go on from here, but something I do know is that I can't stay here. Everything in this house reminds me of Clark, of things we did together, of conversations we had. I can't even sleep in my bedroom anymore. I had the servants strip the sheets and replace them with new ones. Different colors, different textures, but it didn't help. I still felt him in my bed. Last night I slept in one of the rooms down the hall that I'd never even been in before and it was the first time I'd actually slept more than a couple hours since I broke it off with Clark. 

I can't even imagine going into town, seeing all the places we've been together, first as friends and then as lovers. I'll never been able to go for coffee in this town, to the theatre, past the high school without thinking of Clark and the times we spent together in those places. I can't stay here. Even if it means crawling back to my father's house in Metropolis and doing whatever he wants for the rest of my life, I can't stay here. 

I've been putting off calling him because I didn't want to admit that he was right, that love was my weakness, that my feelings for Clark let him manipulate me into doing exactly what he wanted right from the start. I can't put it off anymore. I can't stay here for even one more day. The constant sadness is killing me. 

I pick up my phone and dial my father's cell number. It's the weekend, he won't necessarily be at the office and I'd rather not speak to the people there if I don't have to. It rings a couple of time before he picks up. I can hear laughter in the background. It sounds like maybe he's at the club. 

"Lex," he greets me. 

"Father," I say. 

"What can I do for you, son?" he asks me smoothly. He knows very well what I'm calling about. 

"I need to get out of Smallville," I tell him. 

"Oh?" he asks like he has no idea what I'm talking about at all. "So it didn't end well?" 

"Father," I snap. 

"You ended it?" he asks. 

"Yes," I tell him with a sigh. 

"You understand now why you can never let yourself love someone again? That you could be manipulated like this in the future and next time it might not be me, it might be someone else? You could bring the whole company down with this foolishness, Lex. Empires are destroyed by these sorts of things." 

"Yes, I understand," I tell him. "I'll never love anyone again, you don't have to worry about that." My voice is full of the hurt that I just can't seem to hide very well anymore. 

"Good," my father says. "Come back home, Lex. We'll find a place for you here and then you can go back to school in the fall." 

"Okay," I sigh. 

"Good boy. One day you'll thank me for this, you'll see," he tells me. 

I snort. "Good bye, Father," I tell him and hang up. I feel like I've just handed my soul over to the devil. 

-end- 

02-03-09 


End file.
